


With This Gentle Sting Between Us

by lco123



Category: Pretty Little Liars
Genre: F/F, Post-Mona Mania, Season 3
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-24
Updated: 2020-03-24
Packaged: 2021-03-01 05:06:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23299804
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lco123/pseuds/lco123
Summary: Spencer rises up off the couch, stretching her arms overhead and yawning. She knows she was dreaming but can only recall fragments of it. The sound of that damn dinging bell. Andrew, weirdly dressed like the ringmaster to a circus, announcing that Spencer lost. Mona pulling off an ‘A’ hoodie to reveal her masquerade ball dress underneath, smile wide as she mouths the words, “Game over.”Well, and there was that other part, too.
Relationships: Spencer Hastings/Hanna Marin, implied Spencer/Mona and Hanna/Mona
Comments: 15
Kudos: 38





	With This Gentle Sting Between Us

**Author's Note:**

> Sometimes, the only way to deal with a stay-at-home order is to write about Spencer Hastings having lots of queer thoughts and feelings. This is one of those times.
> 
> Post 3x15 - Mona Mania, which you may recall is the episode where Spencer dresses like queer Mary Poppins to go up against Mona in the quiz-off.
> 
> Edited to add: literally forgot that Spoby had sex before Mona Mania. Oops. Oh well.

Spencer wakes up with her head pillowed in Hanna’s lap. Hanna’s face hovers above her on the couch, eyes closed, breath deep and even. Hanna neck is bent at an uncomfortable-looking angle, but otherwise she looks serene. More peaceful than Spencer can recall either of them seeming in some time.

Spencer slowly extricates herself from her position, careful not to jostle Hanna. She reaches for her phone and checks the time; it’s nearly two in the morning. She and Hanna are still in their clothes from yesterday. Spencer’s outfit for the quiz-off, which had felt cool and important when she put it on earlier, suddenly feels over the top and ridiculous. The scratchy material of the jacket is starting to chafe at her skin.

Spencer rises up off the couch, stretching her arms overhead and yawning. She knows she was dreaming but can only recall fragments of it. The sound of that damn dinging bell. Andrew, weirdly dressed like the ringmaster to a circus, announcing that Spencer lost. Mona pulling off an ‘A’ hoodie to reveal her masquerade ball dress underneath, smile wide as she mouths the words, “Game over.”

Well, and there was that other part, too. The part of the dream that has been recurring ever since Mona started back at school, the part Spencer hasn’t told her friends about. The one where Mona finds her in the locker room, naked, and presses Spencer against the lockers. Kisses her, slides a hand down her body, makes her moan…

Spencer shakes her head. She doesn’t need to think about that anymore. Already she’s woken up every morning this week with a pounding heart and sticky thighs.

“What time is it?” Hanna asks from the couch. Her voice is thick with sleep. Spencer is grateful for the intrusion to her thoughts.

“Almost two. I hope you texted your mom.”

Hanna props her arm on the side of the couch, blinking groggily. “I did. I think I did?” She checks her phone, exhaling. “Phew. Yeah, I did.”

“Good.” Spencer nods toward the stairs. “C’mon. Let’s get out of these clothes.” The words sound suggestive to her own ears, but maybe that’s just because her mind has kind of been in the gutter lately, because Hanna doesn’t react, merely follows Spencer upstairs.

“Are your parents home?” Hanna whispers once Spencer closes her bedroom door.

Spencer shakes her head. “Nope. My mom’s staying with Melissa in Philly and my dad’s on a golf trip.”

Hanna nods. “I think you told me that.”

“It’s okay.” Spencer reaches into one of her drawers and pulls out two sets of matching flannel pajamas, tossing one to Hanna. Spencer starts to change immediately, very pointedly facing away from Hanna, when she hears a laugh behind her.

Spencer finishes buttoning her last button and turns around with a, “What?”

She flushes at the sight. Hanna is standing there bare-legged, with the flannel top completely unbuttoned, each side hanging precariously over one breast.

“Sorry,” Hanna giggles. “I just…we’re going to look like some married couple in the fifties who never have sex.” She raises an eyebrow in Spencer’s direction. “You can be my secretly gay husband.”

Spencer ignores the “secretly gay” part, asking, “Why do I have to be the husband?”

“Well, you _were_ wearing a tie, like, two minutes ago.”

Spencer ignores that comment, too, sliding into bed. “Are you going to finish putting that on, or are you just going to stand there and laugh?”

Hanna rolls her eyes but continues to button the shirt. “Gimme a break, it’s been a weird fucking night.”

“You’re telling me.”

Hanna pulls on the pants and slides into bed beside Spencer. “Goodnight,” Spencer calls, turning off the light and rolling to face the wall. She suddenly feels an arm sliding over her midsection.

“You’re spooning me,” Spencer says to the darkness.

“Is this okay?” Hanna asks quietly. “I just—”

“It’s okay,” Spencer cuts in. She really doesn’t want to hear about how she’s acting as a surrogate for Caleb right now.

Spencer closes her eyes, willing herself to sleep, even though her heart is pounding. They’ve been lying there for a few minutes when Hanna says, “I can’t stop thinking about Mona.”

Spencer’s pulse quickens at the mention of Mona’s name, but she tries to keep her reaction in check. “Are you worried about what she’s going to do now?”

“No. Yes.” Hanna sighs. “No.”

Hanna sounds a lot more awake now, so Spencer knows neither of them are going to be sleeping anytime soon. She reaches up to flick the light back on, rolling back to face Hanna.

“You sound conflicted,” she remarks.

Hanna sits up in bed, nodding. “I feel bad. And that’s so shitty, I know, after everything she’s done to all of us. But there’s this part of me that understands her still. Or, I think I do.”

Spencer sits up beside Hanna and looks at her. Hanna’s brow is so furrowed it just might get stuck that way.

“How did you know she was on the Halloween train?” Spencer asks. It’s a question that’s been bugging her for weeks.

Hanna shrugs. “Lucas told me she was sneaking out. I figured, where else would she go?”

She’s lying.

“ _Hanna_.”

Hanna exhales, finally turning to look back at Spencer. “The other person dressed like Caleb had an Ali mask on underneath. That seemed like something Mona would do. And, um.” She twists her fingers together. “That person also tried to kiss me.”

“Which seems like something Mona would do,” Spencer supplies, quietly. “Why didn’t you tell us about that?”

“It’s complicated, with Mona,” Hanna admits. “It always has been. I don’t know if I—if I know what it all means. The way she feels.”

“Did you guys ever—?”

“No,” Hanna answers. Too quickly, like she’s at least thought about it.

Spencer sure has, though she’s not about to tell that to Hanna.

This, though, maybe she can. Spencer rolls her lips together, considering. “Sometimes I feel like I understand her, too,” she confesses, staring straight ahead. “But not like you. Like, her brain is full of so many things, all these facts about the world and other people. And I just want to crack it open and see if any of the pieces match up to things in my own brain.”

She grimaces, hearing how that sounds. “That probably doesn’t make any sense. I’m not crazy, I swear—”

“Maybe you are, a little,” Hanna offers with a small smile. “But I love you anyway.”

Spencer releases a breath she didn’t know she’d been holding. “I’ve been so wound up these last couple of days.”

“Last couple of _days?_ ”

“I really wanted to win,” Spencer says. “And I really, really wanted Mona to lose.”

“I know.”

Spencer slides back down onto her pillow. “I let her get in my head. It was an amateur move.”

Hanna slides back down beside her. “It’s okay. She’s in my head all the time, too. And my dreams—god, don’t even get me started.”

They’re close in the bed now, so close that when Hanna exhales Spencer can feel the breath on her face. “What kind of dreams?”

Hanna blinks at Spencer before her eyes light up. “You’ve been having them too.”

“I wouldn’t call them _dreams._ Nightmares, maybe.”

“Where she’s ‘A’?”

“Sometimes.”

Hanna frowns. “She’s ‘A’ in my dreams sometimes, too. And then other times she turns into Ali, or Caleb.”

Spencer nods. She doesn’t trust herself to speak anymore. She’s afraid that if she does, she’ll ask a question that will reveal too much. She’ll start talking and not be able to stop until she’s told Hanna every detail of every sexy dream she’s ever had about Mona.

Just the thought of doing that makes Spencer have to clench her thighs a little tighter.

Hanna must see the mild panic on her face because she raises a hand to Spencer’s cheek and strokes it softly, settling her fingers against the side of Spencer’s jaw. The touch is comforting and cool, though not cool enough to justify the way Spencer shivers.

“You jaw is tense,” Hanna whispers. “You _are_ wound up.”

Spencer bites down on a laugh. “You have no idea.”

“You need to relax.” Hanna says it so casually, as though the idea just occurred to her.

“Gee, thanks. I’ll get right on that.”

“I’m serious. Grandma Marin told me about how stress manifests in the body. If we don’t do something about it, we’re all going to have cancer by the time we’re twenty.”

Spencer winces. “Jesus, Han. That’s a grim thought.”

Hanna slides her hand from Spencer’s jaw to the base of her skull, massaging her fingers up and down. Spencer hates when Toby rubs her head—she always has, she can’t explain why—but whatever Hanna is doing right now feels amazing. She could actually fall asleep like this, and she’s just letting her eyes drift closed when Hanna asks, “Can I touch you?”

“You are touching me,” Spencer points out, eyes still closed.

“ _Spence,_ ” Hanna murmurs. Spencer opens her eyes. “Can I _touch_ you?”

Spencer’s entire body tingles. “Oh, you mean like—”

“Yeah.”

“ _Why?”_ Spencer asks.

“I want to,” Hanna says simply. “And I think you want me to, too.”

“I do?” Spencer says, more to buy time than anything else.

“Well, I’m not going to tell you what you want.”

There are a million reasons why this is a bad idea, but for the life of her Spencer cannot conjure a single one of them. Hanna is looking at her with such fondness, like literal sunshine on the other pillow. All Spencer wants is to feel some of that warmth.

“I do,” she repeats, this time without the question mark.

Hanna smiles. “Okay. Lie on your back.”

Spencer does as she’s told, working hard to stay present, to focus on the Hanna-in-her-bed and not the Mona-in-her-dreams—who also, as it turns out, likes to give instruction. She lays back against the pillows and lets her legs splay open as much as her pajama pants will allow. Hanna’s hands drift to the buttons of Spencer’s shirt, starting to undo them.

Spencer knows whatever Hanna is planning would feel amazing, but the spike in her arousal is so extreme that she doesn’t think she can wait. She puts a hand on Hanna’s wrist. “You don’t need to—” she begins, and when Hanna pulls back, Spencer clarifies: “I’m already _so wet_. Seriously, you can skip all that and get right to, y’know.”

Hanna barks out a laugh that sounds especially loud in the quiet room. “Why am I not surprised that you’re outlining the itinerary for how you want me to make you come?”

Spencer flushes. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be.” Hanna leans forward and presses a kiss under Spencer’s ear. “It’s hot.” With that she slides her hand further down, under the waistband of Spencer’s pants. Spencer is vaguely aware that this would probably go better if she took her pants and underwear off, but she thinks she would faint if Hanna stopped touching her for even a second.

“You weren’t kidding,” Hanna breathes as she dips into Spencer’s underwear. “Wow.” She sounds impressed, which just turns Spencer on more. Hanna maneuvers her hand around, talking all the while: “I’m not sure if this’ll be great, I’ve never done this on anyone—”

“Hanna,” Spencer rasps. “You’re doing fine.” That seems to increase Hanna’s confidence, and she manages to find just the right spot with her fingers that makes Spencer gasp and grip her shoulder.

“Keep doing that,” Spencer instructs, as Hanna finds a rhythm, moving in some kind of tight circular pattern that causes Spencer to shake.

“Is that okay?” Hanna asks, shifting slightly, and Spencer can only nod in time to her movements.

“Faster,” Spencer begs. Hanna does as she’s told until Spencer is babbling nonsense words and trembling through her orgasm.

The release is so intense and immediate that Spencer finds herself giggling. “Oh my god,” she manages when she can find words again.

“We just had sex,” Hanna says, stunned, as she wipes her hand on the sheets. “Or, I had sex with you. I sexed you? Is that a thing?”

“Don’t ever say ‘sexed’ again,” Spencer laughs. “I can’t believe we did that. You _deflowered_ me.”

Hanna wrinkles her nose. “Ew, god, if I can’t say ‘sexed’ you can’t say ‘deflowered.’” Then her eyes go wide as if hearing the implications of the word. “Fuck, I did! I took your virginity!”

“Okay, first of all, virginity is a social construct and you didn’t _take_ anything from me, so calm down.”

“ _Spencer_.” Hanna touches her arm. “I’m serious. It’s kind of a big deal. Are you okay?”

Spencer flips back to face Hanna. Her underwear is probably ruined and her pants are sticking to her in odd places, but right now she doesn’t care. She knows she should feel guilty; they both just cheated on their boyfriends, technically. They might have destroyed their friendship, or at the very least made things awkward for a while.

Right now, though, Spencer feels alive. She feels free. More free than she’s felt in a very long time.

“I’m okay,” she decides. “Are you?”

Hanna seems to consider that. “I think so?”

Spencer nods slowly. “We’re gonna have some stuff to figure out tomorrow.”

“Yeah.” Hanna yawns. “Tomorrow. Do you think you can sleep?”

“I don’t know,” Spencer answers. “Let’s find out.” She leans over and turns the light off, then pulls Hanna against her.

“I like being your little spoon,” Hanna whispers sleepily.

“I like it, too.”

For the first time in weeks, Spencer doesn’t see Mona’s face when she closes her eyes for more than five minutes. She falls asleep with her face pressed against Hanna’s neck, and dreams of nothing.


End file.
